


Everything Will Be Better Tomorrow

by Aurlana



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Acceptance, Being taken care of, Introspection, Lyrium Addiction, M/M, Recovery, Understanding, appreciation, love and cuddling, lyrium withdrawel, supportive friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-08
Updated: 2019-10-08
Packaged: 2020-11-28 00:22:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20957381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aurlana/pseuds/Aurlana
Summary: Cullen is having a lyrium withdrawal kind of day.With duty pushing him forward, he endures as best he can...until he doesn't have to anymore.





	Everything Will Be Better Tomorrow

* * *

**Everything Will Be Better Tomorrow**

* * *

The pain in my head is throbbing. Not just my head, I ache… everywhere. My joints, my muscles. I feel like my body is leaching its energy from the very fibers of my tissues. The moment I woke up this morning, I knew today was going to be an off day. Some days are just like that. But duty calls, things must be done and I’ve been tasked with doing them. I will not let them down. Not because of this, not because of the damn withdrawal symptoms I never should have had to deal with in the first place. But in a sense, I asked for them, didn’t I? Since I was a boy, all I wanted to do was be a Templar. The glory of fighting for the honor of Andraste! The glory of fighting… 

_ HA! What a joke.  _

The first draught of Lyrium made us feel strong, invincible, capable of going up against the charges we were tasked with watching over. What they didn’t tell us was that it was actually a leash. We were prisoners too. I envy the mages the freedoms they have, at least if they follow the rules, they will live a long life, clear of mind and healthy in body. The walls of our cells are completely different. The freedom we possess, a complete illusion. Even if we do follow all the rules and lead a devout life, over time our minds and bodies break down from the overuse of the lyrium; for no other reason than to keep us chained.

It’s not fair… but then again, it never was. Only, back then, I didn’t know that. I was too young and stupid. Too jaded by the promise of honor and glory. My faith used to be all that kept me going, but I’ve found that my faith isn’t nearly strong enough. I have to be though; to be able to carry on, to persevere without.

Every day I struggle to stay strong. Every day that I deny the pull of lyrium, is one day longer I will live with my faculties intact; with my body as my own. But is it really? It’s been months without a drop of that awful/beautiful substance and yet still, I get days like today. Where putting one foot in front of the other to get the job done is harder than it should be. Where the light is too bright, the sounds too loud, touch is too much, my vision not quite clear enough to make out specific details. All of these things do little to improve my mood. 

Thankfully these are the days that my troops are smart enough to not cause extra work for me, or to coddle me. They know better than to tell me to go rest, to lay down and take care of myself. They know better than to ask if I’m okay. But still… I know that they know. How can they not? 

It feels like my hands are always either pinching the bridge of my nose or rubbing the back of my neck to relieve tension; visual cues to my distress that I can’t seem to break. But the work gets done. Armor and uniforms are inspected, guard rotations are monitored, and the training is overseen. That may be the most difficult part. Everytime metal hits metal, it sets my teeth on edge. Only years of training keep me from flinching. As I stand at the edge of the training ring watching the newest recruits learn to bash with their shield, I feel a gentle touch on my arm. 

“Commander,” Cassandra says, quietly. “Your presence is requested in your office.” The soft tone of her voice and the concern in her eyes tells me that she too knows I’m struggling. She’s giving me an out, if I’m not too stubborn to take it.

I may be a little stubborn, I can’t be seen giving in so easily. “I will be there as soon as--”

“Now, Commander. I will finish overseeing the training for the day. This matter is of an urgent nature.” The look she gives me brooks no argument, so I give her a solemn nod and turn toward the stairs that will take me where I need to go. The throbbing in my head dulls only slightly as the clang of the metal grows farther away. Stopping on the battlements, I take a deep breath to try to steady myself. The queasiness has come and gone today, but now that I’m less focused on the crashing in my ears, my stomach has made its unhappiness known again. I will not be seen losing what little I’ve eaten today. I refuse. I take another deep breath and let it out slowly as I regain control and steady myself so that I can continue my journey. To an outsider’s observation, I’ve just taken a moment to appreciate the view. At least… that’s what I hope it looks like. 

Slipping my hands into my pockets to hide the slight tremors, I continue on my way. Whatever Cassandra has waiting for me has to be better than what I was doing. If indeed, there really is an urgent matter that requires my attention, I need to be able to handle it. I will be nothing less than they need me to be. There has been a time or two, that Cassandra has simply come to my aid and given me the reprieve I needed to suffer alone while retaining my dignity. I will forever be grateful to her for those times. I’ve asked her to watch over me, after all. Not many know the extent of what I’ve gone through, but when she asked me to lead her armies, I couldn’t agree to do it without her knowing everything that I was bringing with me. I needed to give her the chance to change her mind. But she didn’t, and here we are. 

With a last deep breath, I enter my office, ready for whatever is in store for me. The last thing I expected was what I walk into: Alistair leaning against my desk, looking far more refreshed and relaxed than his recent excursion into the Western Approach with the Inquisitor should have him be. With only a single candle burning in the room, the dim light is a soothing balm after the bright sunlight outside. 

As I stand there stunned, Alistair’s smile warms me through and through. He quietly approaches and latches the door with a soft click behind me, before leading me toward the ladder.

“Al--” is all I managed to get out before he places a single finger against my lips.

In the quietest whisper, he says, “Shhh - we will talk later. Let’s get you settled in.”

I can do nothing else but nod my acquiescence, press a grateful kiss against his finger, and follow him up to my room.  _ Our room _ . I remind myself, happily. 

In comfortable silence, he takes his time removing my outer trappings and then my armor. Never letting me assist, but also letting me know that he’s well aware that I am capable of doing this for myself. In all the years we’ve known each other, he has never made me feel like I’m incapable or less than, and today is no different. 

While he unbuckles my chest piece, I smile up at the cloth he’s tacked over the hole in the ceiling, dimming the room even further. It’s only when I can finally open my eyes fully that I realize that I’ve been squinting against the brightness of the day. And I fall even more in love with this man for his thoughtfulness. Before he takes my armor over to its stand, he hands me a tall mug and instructs me to drink it all. It’s cool water, but lightly flavored with berries or fruit. Nothing too strong or pungent, he knows I wouldn’t be able to handle that on days like today, but with enough flavor that I know it’s covering up the bitter taste of something else… probably elfroot. But I know him and trust him implicitly, so I know whatever it is, is meant to help. 

Again, I am touched at his thoughtfulness. Finishing off my tincture, I set the mug down on the bedside table and pull my sweaty tunic up and over my head, depositing it on the floor and begin unlacing my boots. Before I finish, Alistair is there, once again, kneeling before me. A gentle touch to my cheek, and his soft smile, tells me that he’ll take care of it; take care of me; take care of everything, if I will let him. And I do. I lean back against the soft pillows and he finishes with my boots. He carefully puts them away, along with my tunic and comes back with a cool, wet cloth. He wipes down my fevered face and neck, then gently, over my arms and chest. Normally, when I’m in the thick of a withdrawal, touch of any kind is too much for me. But not Alistair’s -- never his. 

Once my pants are removed and I am tucked into bed, he retrieves a small bucket (just in case) and a fresh glass of water and places them next to me; one on the floor and the other on the table. The day is still fairly young and my symptoms are only just beginning. We both know how today can potentially go. Once again, I am in awe of how much I love this man. The first time I let him see me like this, he told me it was a true credit to the trust I have for him; he’s not wrong. 

With a soft smile, he makes sure I have everything I need then kisses me tenderly on the top of my head. I expect him to withdraw and leave me to suffer in peace, but he is full of surprises today. He turns to his own armor stand and begins to remove his own clothing, carefully placing each piece in its place. As more skin is revealed, I look on in appreciation of his body. It’s not sexual. Not at the moment, but I’d have to be blind to not appreciate the wiry muscles and well toned physique of my lover. He is beautiful through and through. 

Crawling into bed next to me, I notice his book and a drink are on his bedside table. This, more than anything else, lets me know that he’s here for the duration. He’s going to see this through with me. He’s turned toward me, open and willing if I want to take it. Today, there is nothing I want more. 

Closing my eyes against the last of the light, I curl myself against his side and lay my head on his shoulder. 

“Thank you,” I whisper against his chest.

With loving fingers, carding through my hair, easing my tension bit by bit, he whispers, “Rest now, my love. Everything will be better tomorrow.”

**Author's Note:**

> This little ditty is a result of yesterday's migraine induced delusions of comfort and acceptance. Some days suck... but they don't all. When dealing with chronic pain and occasional migraines, Alistair always makes me feel better. So I hope you've enjoyed my little self soother, as much as I enjoyed writing it! :)


End file.
